desperate pleas

Why Isn’t Anyone Writing?

I wake up early every day. I play Blue’s Clues (today we learned Blue wanted to pretend a box was a roller coaster, and I wanted to pretend that the box was a case of Ambien) and go through the eternal changing-clothes battle. I fall down the stairs, pop the antibiotic I take for the white patches in my tonsils that appeared once my son was born, and dig another notch in the wall to signal the start of the new day. After 14 rounds of “Get You,” which entails chasing my son around the couch, I finally wrangle him into a high chair, find the same Elmo’s World episode on Youtube, toast a waffle–which is one of five items my son deigns to eat–and finally have 45 minutes to myself where I can stare at a computer screen and am only occasionally interrupted by demands to “Dance, mama!” whenever Elmo sings his stupid songs.

But here’s the thing, people. You are not here for me. I click on the “Blogs I Follow” link and there’s nothing new when before I had to cut back on my sobbing-and-rocking-in-the-corner routine to make time for all the new blog posts.

You all seem to be on summer vacation with your pina coladas, flesh-eating viruses and divorce speculations (FYI – Katie and Tom split because of too many misplaced thetans and too few couch jumps), and that’s fine. Really. I’m not being a martyr while I sit in my windowless dining room and click on links about raspberry ketone’s fatty-superman powers. Don’t worry about me.

And I’m only half-serious when I write of the relentless confinement that is my life. Why just three weeks ago, I got my haircut so that was something. I might have a picture of it…no, no I don’t.

But I’m fine. See?

See without your pithy blog-o-grams, I am forced to seek out other sources of information. And then I actually read “news” and learn that people are against health care  reform, but are for the provisions in it, and become aware that some people want to now move to Canada to get away from our “socialized medicine” and I just can’t…I just can’t handle it.

So go on that cruise in the mountains or play golf in that casino–you have my blessing. Just bring your laptop or smart phone or E-meter and write about all the fun you’re having so I have something to read in the morning.

Deal?